The Amityville Horror
by emeralddusk
Summary: The voices wouldn't stop. They wanted them dead...
1. Chapter 1

**The story of the Amityville murders is presumed true, but know that this story is a work of fiction. It is not my intention to exploit or mock the events that allegedly took place in 1975. Bear in mind, not all events mentioned in this story are accurate.**

iCarly: The Amityville Horror

Prologue

The night's air was dead silent. The air was hauntingly cool. Clock hands formed out 3:15. Ronald DeFeo Sr. lay next to his wife, Louise in bed. The two were still, their breathing gentle. In another room, Dawn tossed and turned in her bed until she found a comfortable spot. Allison slept a few feet away, her mind at ease after her math test was out of the way. Down the hall, Marc and John slept on opposite sides of the room, snoring moderately.

Two feet stepped up the steps, creating creaking sounds as the boy got closer to his destination. A rough, sweaty hand loaded the Marlin 336C rifle. The voices raging in his mind, compassion or memories were no longer holding Ronald back.

A loud buzzing sound began to erupt from outside the windows, slicing through the silence like a knife. Ronald continued up the stairs, inch by inch, growing ever closer to them. Finally, it would all be over. The man slowly slid the door to his parents' room open, making a slight, but much too loud eeking sound. Inside, the two were asleep, not suspecting anything.

Ronald licked his lips, aimed the gun at his father, and fired. Louise awoke, and sat up, startled. "Ron," she began to say. "What..."

The young man fired again, and his mother was silent. However, Ronald Sr. was still writhing in his bed, clenching his wound. The boy pulled the trigger, and lodged a fatal bullet into his father's body. Fearing his mother may have survived, Ronald Jr. buried another bullet in her stomach, then left the room.

The buzzing continued, as the did the vicious cries of the voices. "Kill them. All of them," they demanded. Ronald turned a corner, and entered the girls' room: they were silent in their beds. All but Allison, who had heard the gunshots, and was hiding in the closet. The young man shot each girl in the back, then searched for Allison. At last, he spotted movement behind the white slotted door to the closet, and kicked it open.

"Ronald," said Allison, her voice timid and scared. "What happened to Mommy?"

The girl's brother lowered the gun to her forehead, and pulled the trigger. The girl fell on her back, her eyes closed, and her breath still.

Now, only two remained: it would all be over soon. Ronald walked into his brothers' room, and made it into a resting place for the two. Finally, the voices were silent, and the buzzing had calmed.

Ron looked around at his brothers, laying still on their stomachs with looks of anguish scarred on their faces. Throwing down the gun, Ronald ran to Henry's Bar, sweat pouring from his forehead, and his heart pounding viciously. "You gotta help me!" he yelled to the men and women in the bar. "I think my family's been shot!"

Newspaper articles shot off of the presses, reading "Man kills family", "Ronald claims demonic possession caused him to murder siblings and family", and "Nightmare in Amityville: six dead."

In the year 2005, Spencer Shay purchased the very same house for a bargain price. In a few days, the young man, his sister, Carly, and Carly's friend, Sam, who was living with the Shay family at the time, due to her mom's employment out of state, would be living in a beautiful Dutch Colonial home overlooking a small canal, in the city of Amityville.


	2. Chapter 2

**The house wasn't evil...What happened in it was**

The Amityville Horror

Chapter One: The Arrival

The Shays' red Buick drove off the highway onto a gravel road. After passing under several rows of trees, Spencer arrived on a yellow, dirt road, drove on it for a few feet, then turned into a long lane, which lead to a large Dutch Colonial house. The nearest house was at least five miles away, and the air was silent. The sun danced across the canal, whose waters gently splashed against the grass surrounding it.

"This place is beautiful," Carly exclaimed. "How'd you get it so cheap?"

"I don't know," Spencer answered. "No molt, foundation problems...That guy just seemed like he wanted to get rid of it."

"How many rooms are there?" asked Sam.

"Not sure," Spencer replied. "There's a ton, though. Don't worry, you'll have plenty of space."

Once Spencer parked the car, the three walked up onto the porch, opened the doors, and looked inside: The inside of the house of dark with wooden floors, large windows, and furniture covered with white sheets. Cob webs dangled from the walls and every corner of the living room.

"Creepy," Sam exclaimed.

"Looks like no one's lived here for awhile," added Carly.

"It just needs some cleaning up," Spencer replied. "Come on...This is our home. Let's enjoy it."

The two smiled, and set to work cleaning. Once all the grime was cleared away, the house was more inviting, but still maintained an uneasy feel to it. Suddenly, Carly stopped dead in her tracks as she was carrying a box. "Huh," she said.

"What's up?" Sam replied.

"I feel... weird," Carly answered. "It feels like... Like something's...hugging me or something."

"Hugging?" Sam asked, trying to understand what her friend was experiencing.

"Yeah," replied Carly. "It feels...good. Like I'm really at home."

"Calm down, Carls," Sam joked. "Help me move this box before you get moved in."

"Okay," Carly giggled. The brunette grabbed the side of the box opposite of Sam, and carried it to the other end of the room.

"There we go," said Sam as she set the cardboard box on the floor.

Suddenly, a loud buzzing sound pierced the girls' ears. The two yelped in pain, grabbed their ears, and vigorously searched for the source of the noise. The noise was like thousands of flies beating their wings as they tore through the very their very ear drums: unending, vicious.

"What is that?" Sam yelled, growing enraged.

"My ears feel like they're about to bleed," Carly replied, the pain becoming unbearable.

No sooner than it started, the sound stopped. The girls took their hands off their ears, which were still ringing.

Spencer walked into the room, holding a lamp in both of his hands. "Hey guys," he greeted, his voice happy. "What's up?"

"You didn't hear that?" Carly replied.

"Hear what?" Spencer asked, setting the lamp on a small wooden stand.

"That buzzing sound," Sam answered, her voice growing upset. "How could you not hear that?"

"I don't know," replied Spencer. "Hey, you two wanna get a pizza for tonight?"

The two looked at each other. Suddenly, the ordeal didn't seem so important. "Sure," the girls answered almost harmonically.

"Alright," Spencer said. "I'll start the car up." The young man jogged outside, and got into the Buick.

"What do you think that was?" Carly asked her friend.

"No idea," replied Sam. "This place gives me the creeps."

"Ditto," Carly added. "It'll take some time to get used to. In a few weeks, it'll feel like home." The girls ran out to the car, and road into town with their guardian.

Once the three arrived at a local pizza parlor, the sky had grown dark, and rain was pouring down. The gang ran into the building, their hair and clothes soaking wet.

"Nasty one out there, aye?" the chef asked the group.

"You said it," Sam replied, showing her discontent, but also her ability to not sweat the small things.

"You three new in town?" asked the adolescent working the cash register. "Havn't seen yuh around."

"Yeah, we just moved in," Spencer responded. "Bought that place by the canal."

"The Colonial house in Amityville?" asked the chef, growing nervous.

"That's it," Carly answered.

The staff and several customers looked at one another, different thoughts running through their heads.

"Something wrong?" asked Spencer, not understanding the people's reactions.

"You don't know the story of that place?" the chef replied.

"What story?" Sam asked, growing interested.

"...About thirty years ago," the chef began. "A man named Ron DeFeo went mad inside that house, killed his entire family. Claimed spirits made him do it."

"Did the realtor tell you that?" Carly asked her older brother.

"No," Spencer replied. "He didn't mention anything about it."

"Hey," called out an older man with brown hair and graying sideburns. "Don' let Donnie scare you. All that stuff they say about that place 'er just folk tales."

"Well, what do they say about it?" asked Carly.

"...They say it's haunted," the chef answered. "Just...be careful." The man winked at the gang, then returned to the dishes he was washing.

Carly, Sam, and Spencer looked at each other, growing shocked.

Lightning struck outside, creating a second of blindness for everyone in the parlor. The rain fell harder on the windows.


	3. Chapter 3

The Amityville Horror

Chapter Two: Born into Darkness

Carly lay in her bed, her eyes closed, her breath calm, facing the ceiling. The wind outside had grown calm, but still carried a sense of uneasiness and a deep sense of fear among it. Several flies buzzed around the window, before landing on it. The insects stared at the brunette, laying peacefully in her bed.

The girl's mind was at peace, and drifting. Her body grew light, and she began to float into the air. Carly saw dark green, demonic hands holding her, and lifting her body into the air in her dreams. The teen's breath began to grow choppy, and she shook her head back and forth, becoming restless. Finally, she collided into the ceiling. The demon's hands wouldn't stop pushing her upward.

Carly awoke in her bed, and shot up, her breath heavy. The nightmare had left her stunned and Soon, the girl felt a pain on her chest. Carly pulled the neck of her shirt outward. Several large welts lay on her chest in the same spot she dreamed the demon hit her on the ceiling. "Oh, gosh," Carly exclaimed under her breath. The girl glanced over at her clock: The red numbers indicated that it was 3:15 a.m. The girl pulled the covers over her face, and tried to escape her fears in sleep.

Spencer awoke the instant the clock struck 3:15 to the sound of the living room door slamming: The noise was loud enough to wake the entire household. Determined to protect his family, the young man ran downstairs, and stared at the door, his mouth open, and his breath heavy. The door had not been disturbed since he closed it at 9 p.m., no water was streaked on the floor, and no one upstairs had stirred. Feeling confused, Spencer looked around for any intruders, then went back upstairs.

That morning, Sam jogged into the kitchen, wearing a somewhat happy face. Carly was sitting at the table, holding her tired head up while leaning on the marble rectangle.

"Morning, Carls," the blond greeted. "You look horrible."

"Thanks," Carly sarcastically replied, though she was too tired to properly show emotion. "I couldn't sleep last night."

"Having trouble with the new place?" Sam replied. "I thought you said you felt really at home here."

"Yeah, but it was weird," Carly responded. "It was like something was actually hugging me. And last night,...I had this dream something was lifting me up, and smacking me into the ceiling. Then I woke up with welts on my chest."

"What?" Sam asked, shocked.

Carly nodded.

"Well, we have to tell Spencer," Sam exclaimed, unable to fathom her own emotions. "I mean, this is like...Supernatural."

"What am I supposed to tell him?" Carly replied. "That this house is haunted?"

"I-I don't know," Sam answered. "But there is something going on here."

"Morning," Spencer greeted the two as he walked into the room.

"Hey, uh, Spencer," Carly began, her voice somewhat nervous. "Have you noticed anything weird since we moved here?"

"Not really," the young man answered. "Why?"

"Well, that buzzing sound yesterday," Carly listed. "And last night, I had this nightmare, and woke up with welts on my chest."

"Whoa," Spencer replied. "Do you need a doctor?"

"No, I'm fine," Carly answered. "But...I think this place might be...haunted."

"...That's crazy," Spencer said, sounding almost shocked. "There is nothing wrong with this house. That guy last night just scared you." The young man put his arms around his sister. "Don't worry...I won't let anything hurt you."

Sam stared at Spencer, finding his behavior a little odd. Not noticing, the young man continued to hug Carly, his grip growing tighter.

"Spencer," Carly said, feeling her arms begin to ache. "You're hurting me."

"Sorry," Spencer replied, letting her go. "...Hey, did either of you hear the door slam last night?"

"No," the two harmonically replied.

"Guess I was just dreaming," Spencer declared. "Hey, uh, either of you need to go into town today? I'm gonna check out the mall."

"Uh, could you drop Sam and I off at the Blockbuster?" Carly asked. "I wanna rent the new season of Girlie Cow."

"Cool," Spencer replied. "I'll be ready in a few minutes, 'kay?"

"Sure," Sam said. "I need to grab my wallet." The blond ran out of the room.

The three left the house at about 8:30. On the way into town, Carly noticed the orange and crimson leaves falling from the trees: Fall was always her favorite time of year. The air was cool, and a light wind was flowing through the area.

"I hope they have it," Sam said.

"Yeah," Carly replied, her mind drifting.

"Carly," Sam called.

"Huh?" Carly jumped out of her trance.

"What's wrong?" asked Sam. "Are you still upset about last night?"

"Kinda," Carly answered. "It's just so weird."

"It was probably from carrying all those heavy boxes," Spencer reasoned.

"Could be," Carly replied. The teen began to feel relief. There was probably a scientific explanation for everything that had been going on.

When the three returned to their home at Noon, they found, in large, swiped-on letters, "Get Out!" painted on the front of the house.


	4. Chapter 4

The Amityville Horror

Chapter Three: Obsession

"I don't believe this!" Spencer yelled, kicking the wall. "All the locks are broken! Some moron spray painted the whole damn front of the house!"

"Spencer, why are you getting so upset about this?" Carly asked, growing concerned.

"I'm just angry," Spencer shortly replied. "We move in like two days ago, and this!" The young man threw down his fist, cutting it on the jagged edge of the wooden stand. Blood began to stream out of the wound. "Ahhh!" Spencer screamed, his anger increasing throughout the cry. The brunette thrust his bloody hand into the wall.

"Spencer," Carly exclaimed, too shocked to speak properly. Sam shared the feeling, and merely stood still, her jaw slightly dropped.

"...I'm sorry," Spencer replied, feeling regret for his behavior now that his emotional climax was over. The young man turned away, and jogged up the stairs.

The teenagers stared at Spencer. This was nothing like the way he normally acted, and the change was taking its toll on them.

"Sam, are you okay?" Carly asked her friend. Usually, Sam was the strongest of the two, but things were far from the statuesque they'd all come to know and love over the years.

"Fine," Sam answered, a hint of anger in her voice as she swallowed a lump forming in her throat. The blond ran up the stairs. Carly could hear her friend's door slam.

The brunette lowered her head, feeling a lump form in her own throat. Now that she noticed, she felt cold: Not the kind of cool she was used to, but a more mental state of coldness. The girl walked over to the couch, sat down, and watched her DVD, the one she was supposed to watch with her friend.

The colorful images and innocent humor of the show took away from some of Carly's distress, but a deeper feeling of concern still bubbled in her stomach. At least the coolness was gone now. "...What's happening to us?" Carly asked herself.

On the chilled surface of the window, several flies marched their sticky, hair-covered legs around, staring at the girl behind the glass. Their red eyes locked onto her long, brown hair, her innocent, calm face.

That night, the sky was pitch black, and an icy breeze whispered through every tree and blade of grass surrounding the Dutch Colonial house in the heart of Amityville.

Carly lay on her back, her breath gentle. Unlike any other night before, the girl rolled onto her stomach. Lightning struck in her mind, and she saw four gray bodies, laying on their stomachs, bullet wounds in their backs (except for Allison, who had blood stains in her hair), and had streaks of blood around them on the carpet. The girl awoke from her dream, her breath heavy. Carly covered her eyes, and kept trying to catch her breath.

The clock struck 3:15, and Spencer awoke. The young man's eyes were tired, but he was too anxious to sleep. Spencer threw off his blankets, set his feet on the floor, and walked out of the room. Before leaving the house, the brunette boy put on a jacket, then went out to the boathouse. Not knowing what he was looking for, or why he was even there, Spencer just looked around, then went back to the house.

The young man quietly shut the door behind him when he entered the house. Lightning struck in the sky above, but another sound burdened the man. Scanning the room with his flashlight and seeing nothing, the confused brunette walked away. Above him, two large, bloody, demonic hands held the image of Carly tightly to the ceiling, and covered her mouth. Her fearful expression went unnoticed.

Later that morning, Sam was taking a walk by the lake. She'd been feeling alone a lot for the last few days, and getting away from everything helped her cope a little. The cool breeze blowing in her blond hair, the gentle splashing of the waves against the shore, and the peaceful sounds of nature were so soothing. _I hate being alone, _Sam thought, not meaning that literally: The idea of not having someone who she could be close to and share secrets with had always been upsetting for her. _Too bad I outgrew imaginary friends._ Suddenly, that thought didn't seem so strange to the teen. _Hey, why not? I think I'll call it...Jodie. _

Different ideas surged through Sam's mind. Finally, she had her friend envisioned: a pig-like creature. Not a human, there would be too many problems with that. An animal would be much better: something to love unconditionally, something to spend time with without the restrictions humans had. "Come on, Jodie," Sam called, gesturing for her friend to follow her. The girl could hear Jodie grunt at her, agreeingly. Maybe it was crazy, but it was better than being alone.

Come 9 a.m., clouds were covering the sky, and a gentle mist was filling the air. Carly watched out the window as the water droplets hit the glass, then slide down out of sight.

"Hey, Carls," Sam greeted.

"Hey, Sam," Carly greeted back. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah," replied Sam. "You?"

"Not really," Carly answered. "I'm still worried about Spencer. And I'm still a little weirded out about this place. Have you noticed anything strange lately?"

"Not since yesterday," Sam replied, a hint of humor in her voice. "Hey,..." Sam suddenly became reluctant to discuss her new friend: Carly probably wouldn't understand.

"What?" Carly giggled.

"Ah, nothing," Sam answered. "It's stupid."

"Tell me," persisted Carly.

"I...made a new friend," Sam confessed, her voice perky. "Its name's Jodie."

"Its?" Carly asked.

"Yeah, it's my imaginary friend," Sam explained. "I know it's weird, but we don't know anyone here yet, and I thought, what the heck?"

"Aren't you kind of old for an imaginary friend?" Carly asked, trying not to sound rude.

"Hey, different stokes for different folks," Sam replied. "What's the big deal, anyway?"

"Nothing," Carly said. "It's just...I'm having trouble taking in all these changes. I mean, Spencer's acting weird, I've been having these nightmares..."

"Wait, you had another nightmare?" Sam interrupted, growing concerned.

"Yeah, I saw..." Carly began to give her dream serious thought. "I saw dead bodies...bleeding on the floor...Hey, do you think those guys at the pizza place were right about that murder?"

"Beats me," Sam replied. "You probably just have yourself spooked. That's why you havn't been sleeping good...Hey, I just realized... I slept on my stomach last night. I never do that."

"Same here," Carly added. "What's going on?"

"Not sure," Sam responded. "I'm getting freaked out just talking about it. Uh, you wanna watch Girlie Cow?"

"Sounds great," Carly answered, eager to spend time with her friend, and get her mind off her fears.

Spencer sat in his room, the shades closed, and embracing the darkness. His moods had been growing much darker lately. _How dare those jerks vandalize my house, _he thought to himself, his anger growing.

_Stop them._

Spencer's head shot to the left side of the room, trying to find source of the voice. "Whose there?" he asked.

No response. The young man set his mind at ease, and continued staring at the wall.

_Catch them._

Spencer sat still, and listened. It sounded right: catch the people who were against him.

_Catch them..._

"Who?" Spencer asked, his mind sinking deeper and deeper into confusion.

_Catch them...Kill them!_ The voices were growing angrier.

Spencer sat still, listening. Lightning struck outside.


End file.
